


The Iron Bull's Sacrifice

by MisterRamone



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Brute - Freeform, Courtroom Drama, Creampie, Decapitation, Dominance, French Kissing, Gay Sex, Horns, Kissing, M/M, Public Display of Affection, Public Hand Jobs, Punishment, Rimming, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Skyhold (Dragon Age), Submission, Teasing, Trans Character, Treachery, Voyeurism, bareback, blowjob, hugedick, nippleplay, roughsex, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-21 04:24:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20687468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterRamone/pseuds/MisterRamone
Summary: When a member of the Iron Bull's Chargers is returned to Skyhold in chains, the Inquisitor is shocked. When Krem defends the man and disobeys Bull's order, the Inquisitor knows he does not have the full story.The Iron Bull is a Qunari first, a soldier second and a friend third. A scarred brute, most run in terror but the Inquisitor calls him 'friend' and maybe its he who can convince the Bull to open up. Maybe it's he who can tame the Iron Bull.Dragon Age: Inquisition Fan Fiction.m/m erotica.





	1. The Commander

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story for fun. I had just completed the story of Inquisition and didn't want to say goodbye to the characters or world. Rereading it a year later is cringe, I admit. The writing is weak but that is good. It just means I am getting better. I may come back and rewrite this. I have new ideas that could be explored and definitely more scenarios.   
The most important thing I want to bring your attention to is Krem. I overlooked him in research and used wrong pronouns when writing his character. I apologize wholeheartedly for my ignorance and have corrected it right away. If you find an instance I have missed, please point it out to me. Krem means so much to so many people and I would hate to do his character disservice.   
MisterRamone xx

The carriage wheels rattling over the cobbled stones echoed throughout Skyhold. After the attack on Haven we had moved up into the mountains on Ser Rogers advice. I hate the bastard, but he saved our lives whether I like it or not. Each morning we woke, packed our camp and walked. They followed me, they put trust into a boy’s hands that barely belonged to a man. We trudged through snow; we unloaded our mules just so they could cross rivers without drowning, until finally we came upon an overlook. It was Solas who lead us to the abandoned keep, his knowledge saved us from dying by the fast approaching winter.  
Everyone’s spirits were dampened and every night when we fell asleep, I wondered how many will have left during the night. I cried when I saw the man shaped stone, it was so beautiful. Solas was listing off problems that will need to be fixed when I threw myself against him.  
“Thank you!” I had cried. He stood against me awkwardly and when I let go, I was amused to see his pales cheeks had turned pink.  
“It’s my job Inquisitor.” When we had set up the war table, I made sure that Josephine increased his wages. Cullen wasn’t happy about it but that’s because of the Templar rage against the Mages. We have begun our repair of the keep, the stables are up and running, the tavern is doing fair business and the brothel Varric has insisted upon is in high demand. Corypheus will know that I… that we have survived. Each day more settlers arrive. All torn apart by war. When one ends another seems to be lurking in the shadows, waiting for its chance to swoop in. The Fade Rift is closed and yet the sky is still torn apart by green. Solas says it is stable but something about his eyes keeps me aware.  
I have been awake since first light, Leliana had come by my room. She was off to the Western Approach to discuss matters of payment with the Researcher, and she would be gone for over a week.  
“Must you go?” I argued. Since creating the Inquisition, Leliana had become one of my dearest friends. For her birthday I had a black cloak embroidered with silver thread and a large hood made. The hood hangs down over her forehead, hiding her eyes and the silver thread appears like cobwebs. Leliana is a sister to the shadows and the crows whisper tales of intrigue to her. They trust no one else and the rebels shoot them down with arrows to stop them from telling secrets to my friend.  
“You know very well Inquisitor that we need the coin. The Researcher availed of our services knowing the cost. We completed the tasks; the Grand Dragons skull hangs over your bed. It is time we were payed.”  
“I do wish you would call me Mycael (me-cale). This ‘Inquisitor’ stuff is only a title and I do wish my friends to know of the boy who grew up in the marshes.”  
“I will try, Mycael.” She purred. She hugged me, and I kissed her cheek. For the cold exterior she holds, she loves her perfume and today she smells of Crystal Grace. The intoxicating scent has claimed a spot in my heart, and I have had a bottled ordered for my toiletries.  
“Goodbye my friend.” And she left closing the door behind her.  
I am writing a note back to my uncle in the marshes when I notice the carriage rattling up the mountain side. It stops for inspection at the bridge and when it clears, it passes over the ravine. Curious onlookers stand but the guards keep them back.  
“For your safety!” They shout when the people argue. I drop my quill and approach the window. A guard runs into the tavern and is soon followed out by the Iron Bull and Krem. The Iron Bull’s face is tired and full of anguish, but I’m more shocked by Krem. His eyes are raw and puffy, and his skin is pale green. He is ill, I had grown close to Krem since meeting him back in Haven. It was he who first introduced us to the Iron Bull. He is credited for the strong forces the Inquisition holds, and the success we have had on the battlefield. I write a note to the healer and hand it to the chambermaid who waits on me.  
“At once!”  
“Yes sir.” The young woman scurry’s down the hall.  
Too curious for my own good, I head back to my window and open it silently. It tends to screech, so I lift the pane in my hands and when it’s clear, I let go.  
“Any problems?” The Iron Bull asks the closest guard.  
“No sir.”  
The carriage is surrounded by Iron Bull’s men, he opens the door and pulls out a scrawny man with shoulder length auburn hair. He has an aquiline face, and his nose is crooked as if its been broken several times. The man falls down the carriage steps and lands onto the cobblestones.  
“On your feet you traitorous bastard!” The Iron Bull roars and sends a kick into the man ribs. Krem jumps, his lip trembles and I suspect this is a matter not of the body but of the heart.  
I leave my chambers and entering the throne room people fall to their knees.  
“Andrasté save you!” They pray. I nod to them and rush out, taking two steps at a time, down the stone steps. When they see me, the onlookers fall back. Their faces lose their smile and they look at one another, pretending not to see me.  
“So, I told my sisters girls to save her money up. I will find her passage across the water.” Says a young man to a stable hand. He blushes when I pass.  
“Up! On your feet!” The Iron Bull roars. It is then I see the Vashoth in him, the giant race that he claims as ancestry. The rage that holds him, has him send another kick into the crumpled man. Several of his ribs will be broken and his lungs wheeze. Krem notices my approach and races across the courtyard to my side.  
“Please Inquisitor. Tell him to stop.” He squeezes my arm and I pat his back. Tears run down his face, and snot hangs from his nose.  
“Iron Bull what is this about?” The Bull reaches down and pulls the man by his collar to his feet, he throws his arm back and before he acts, I put an arm on his shoulder and he spins. I catch his fist just before it connects with my face. The crowd gasps and the fury that the Iron Bull was acting on, disappears like a forgotten dream.  
“Inquisitor.” He whispers, falling to his knees. He bows his head, his great horns sinking low. The captive is on the ground, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. Krem holds him in his arms.  
“Leave him alone Krem!” He orders but the sergeant pretends not to hear the direct order or the dominance in his voice.  
“Stand Bull.” And he does. He looks down at me, sorrow and pain in his eye.  
“Come with me.” I order. I turn to a guard.  
“Move the captive into the cells, have healer attend to him. Krem you may stay with him.”  
“At once.” The guard runs away.  
The Iron Bull follows me back to the tavern. The front room is busy, music plays, the smell of ale and tobacco fills the air. I gesture for the Bull to follow, as I head up the stairs. I have found this part of tavern to be empty during the morning. We are undisturbed except for two soldiers performing fellatio on each other in the corner. I take a seat and Bull pulls up two, to support his vast weight.  
A bar maid climbs the stairs with flagons of ale.  
“Keep them coming.” The woman nods and heads back down. The Bull drinks silently, ale runs down his chest and it takes all my will power to not rub it away with my hand. He stares into his empty cup.  
“Who is that man?” I ask, sitting back with my arms folded. The Iron Bull takes my flagon and downs it.  
“His name is Olan Gharr (O-lan har) an archer. He was a member of my crew a few turns back until, he fled during a fight and stole our chest.”  
“Who were you fighting?” I ask, leaning forward.  
“A group of mages. They had attacked a young farm couple because they would not sell a pendant to them. They died and their young daughter hired us.”  
“My crew consisted of half a dozen at the time and the mages outnumbered us. I ordered Olan to stand back and fire from afar, but he got cold feet. He didn’t like the plan and ran back to camp and stole our treasure. Krem and him had a thing going. They promised one another that after the war, after the rifts were no longer a threat, they would settle down and that bastard broke his heart.”  
He slammed the flagon down onto the table.  
“And he comes here for punishment?” I ask.  
“He does. It was wrong of me to lose my temper. It is your job to hand out sentences.”  
“Yes, it is.” I tell him softly. He looks up and smiles.  
“What would you advise?” I ask.  
His one remaining yellow eye flicks to his hands.  
“Do not ask me, Mycael.” He says before he leaves.


	2. The Traitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor meets with the traitor and must decide his fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying this short tale. We are almost at the halfway point. If you would like more Dragon Age work, please let me know. I have an idea for a Red Dead Redemption 2 story, that I will be writing in the coming months. I do not want to rush this story and while it's a first draft, I try to make it as best as I can.  
You can expect the the next chapter, over the weekend, I think. Lol.  
Your humble writer,  
Mister Ramone.

I sit on my throne, judging a clan’s man, who decided to throw live sheep at the walls of our hold. My patience is thin at the best of times, but I sarcastically snap at Josephine and it’s not even her fault. I sentence the man and his clan to exile, with as much weapons as they can carry. Everyone approves except Cole and the clansman is led away.  
“Is that all?” I ask. Josephine looks down at her board.  
“Yes, Inquisitor.” I stand and everyone bows.  
I step down from the dais and return to my rooms. The fire is crackling, and food is laid out on the desk I write at. I eat a bowl of stew and tear some bread. I smack lips as I down my chalice of ale and when I am finished, I stand at my window. So far it had been a most unusual day. While the Iron Bull showed no compassion this morning, I know that he is relived that Olan is not dead. Each member of his crew are like family to him and despite the treachery, he would still welcome Olan back. Of course, they would be hostility at first but slowly it would be forgotten.  
I have been told that Olan has been sedated for his extensive injuries. Two healers stay by his side, healing his body to avoid additional pain and discomfort. The Iron Bull want’s me to settle on a punishment, but in order to do that I must speak with the captive first. I ring for my chamber maid and ask if the captive is now awake. She returns several minutes later, her face red and out of breath.  
“Yes Inquisitor. The captive is healed and awake.” I step past her and begin my descent down into the dungeons of Skyhold. Before we settled, Vivienne, Sera, Iron Bull and myself, searched the keep and grounds. Solas assured us that it was empty but built by Mages, our thinking was maybe they put some resistance up to block Solas’s power. The dungeons are built into the mountain itself; the floors and walls are freezing cold and a fire must always be lit to maintain a temperature that doesn’t result in the death of a captive on trial. Our initial search resulted in nothing of interest but once sconces were lit and we breathed life back in the stagnant keep, Solas called for us. The cells were full of soldiers that were abandoned at some point. Little less than skeletons with withered hair. When we first opened the door a nest of rats squealed and ran out under our feet. Sera jumped onto the Iron Bulls back, hanging from his horns. Turns out she isn’t fond of rodents, or spiders, or dark water, and moths.  
“Is there anything dear, that you deem not frightening?” asked Vivienne.  
“I like rams.”  
“Rams?” Echoed the bull.  
“Their so intelligent.”  
“You don’t say that when they walk into my axe, or when your eating a leg of mutton.”  
“I didn’t say I love them.” Vivienne scowled at the young archer.  
“Inquisitor.” Solas warned. Drawing our attention back to the matter at hand.  
Scratches were gouged into the walls and doors; fingernails were chipped and when we tried to light a fire. The cell filled with smoke. We heard a rumbling in the chimney and a little while later a skeleton fell into the hungry flames.  
Someone obviously thought that it was their best chance of escape and got stuck. I wonder how that must have felt. Knowing that nobody is going to come back and save you, so you climb the chimney stack. You breathe in the soot, your eyes burn, you can see they sky just ahead, then you get stuck and slowly your body shuts down and you die.  
Two of Iron Bull’s men stand outside the cell. The iron door is barred shut, and from within I can hear a man praying. The two guards’ nods to me and open the door. I step through and my nose is assaulted by the smell of shit coming from the waste bucket in the corner. Olan jumps from his bed and kneels.  
“Inquisitor.” He breathes.  
“I wouldn’t have thought you to be a man of faith.” He sits back onto the bed. Up close I can see how disheveled he truly is. His eyes are hollow, and from the undone buttons of his shirt I can count his ribs. He has tied his auburn hair back and trimmed his beard. His Adams apple bobs. He does not meet my eyes.  
“A man needs to believe in something, Inquisitor.”  
“And what do you believe in Mister Gharr?”  
“I believe in peace.”  
“And is that why you ran away and stole your crew’s chest, to escape violence?” He sits up and closes the books, his fingers were acting as bookmark. He doesn’t respond. Just stares at my feet as I take in the room.  
“You know. I have been Inquisitor for almost six months. In that time, I have known some truly great men. Good men. Honest men and yet none can look me in the eye. Solas believes it is the mark I bear on my hand; Cullen believes it to be the word of mouth that spread before my party and Josephine thinks it to be fear.”  
“Since I have entered this room, you have not looked me in the eyes. So, Mister Gharr why is it that you do not meet gaze?” The man stands and places the book under his pillow. He raises his head and looks me in the eyes. He has green eyes, the sort of green you may only find in the heart of forest.  
“It is respect, sir.”  
“Respect?”  
“You were pulled from the ashes of the Fade Rift bearing a mark that can save the world. Without being asked how you feel, you agree to help seal the rifts. That is an honorable man, and a lowlife like I, does not deserve to be in your company.”  
“Whether I’m honorable is questionable, Mister Gharr. I come to your cell so I may meet the man whose fate I choose. Krem loves you and want’s you to live. The Iron Bull despite his actions does not wish you harm. But what do you want?”  
“Solitary.” He whispers. “If I must be honest, I ran away because my love for Krem is unequal. A life with me, is a life of pain and Krem deserves only kindness.”  
“And did you believe abandoning your love and crew, stealing all their gold and valuables would not cause pain?”  
“I…it was necessary.”  
“Olan, pain is unavoidable. Pain is how we are reminded we are only human. Your foolish mistakes now lie in my hands to award punishment to.”  
“Do what you must inquisitor.”  
“I wish you all the best, Olan.” I knock on the door and leave.  
I am on the first step of the spiral staircase when Olan calls.  
“Inquisitor?” I turn and I see a pale skeletal hand, sticking out through the bars.  
“Mister Gharr?”  
“Could you please pass this to Krem?”  
He hands me the battered book he had been reading.  
“It’s a collection of tales we were told as kids where I come from.”  
“Of course.” His eager eyes follow me, as I disappear up the staircase.  
Krem stands on the edge of the world. He stands with his back to me, as he looks off the top of the tower.  
“Krem?”  
He turns and dusty tears stain his face.  
“Inquisitor!” He jumps, pawing at his eyes.  
“I did not mean to startle you.”  
“Don’t worry about me Inquisitor. I have iron will.” He manages to grin.  
“I have something for you.” I hand him the book.  
“What is it?”  
“It’s a book from Olan’s childhood.”  
“Oh.” His knuckles turn white on the spine.  
“I will leave you.” As my head disappears down the ladder, Krem blocks the light.  
“Have you been in love inquisitor?” He calls down. And I think about the storm coast and how we felt looking out at the turmoil sea.  
“I think so.”  
“Then you know.” He disappears and I am left with conflicted feelings.  
There are three sides to this argument. One of love, one of compassion and one of justice.  
I return to my rooms, and lie awake, listening to the growing storm while a man’s life dwindles in my hands. I do not get any sleep.


	3. The Second Bell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor escapes the looming walls of Skyhold and visits the ramparts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I may have been excited to write this part. Lol.

I haunt Skyholds ramparts, standing in the rain. My brown hair sticks to my face, and the heavy downfall blurs my vision. Wind whips at my back and standing on the ledge, I look out at the world. Snow melts from the mountain peaks and down below, the valley will flood. I can see the remains of Haven, it served us well and maybe after all of this is over, I will return and build it back up to a bustling village. My clothes are soaked through and a cold finger scratches down my spine. Lightning flashes and thunders roars shortly after. I can hear the horses in the stable stomp, and the stable master trying to calm them.  
Today I decide Olan’s fate and still I have not chosen. At first light, I left my room and came up here. The rest of the keep is still asleep. I need to be alone to think. At the second bell I will take my place on the throne, with all of Skyhold watching me. I am their Inquisitor and despite how hard this job is, I do it for them.  
“You shouldn’t be up here alone.” I spin, sword already drawn.  
“Easy Inquisitor.” The Iron Bull chuckles.  
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people, Bull.”  
He stands by my side looking out at the horizon.  
“I am sorry that my past has become your problem.”  
“It is my job, Bull.”  
“I know. But you already have so much work.”  
The wind whistles through the space between us.  
“You can’t sleep?” I ask.  
He shakes his head.  
“I care too much.”  
“Caring is not a bad thing. It is why you have such a dependable crew.”  
“Could be. But I wonder if I was sterner, would that have stopped Olan from leaving?”  
“Bull, it is not your fault. Olan left because he was afraid of hurting Krem.”  
“Love.” He scoffs.  
“You do not approve?”  
I turn to him, his vitaar war paint running down his grey skin.  
“It is not right of me to make fun of.” He says.  
“Before, Krem asked if I ever loved someone.”  
“And?”  
“Just one.” His hands tighten on the stone wall.  
“I do not think I could survive the pain Krem must be feeling. To have your love run away and then reappear to stand trial.”  
“He is Qunari.” He says. “He may not have my blood or horns; he may not follow the Qun but he is my family.”  
My chest tightens as I listen to his words.  
“You should be proud.” He nods, and turning away, he wipes his eye.  
I place a hand on the back of his shoulder and feel his muscles work beneath his leathery skin. He hisses at my touch, and slowly he relaxes. He raises his head and turns around. His skin is covered in silver scars and I run my fingers across the one above his left nipple. At my touch his nipples harden, he is looking down at me and I slide my hands into his own. He towers above, we do not speak as slowly he wraps his arms around, and pulls me close, lifting slightly. His lips meet mine, and for such a big man, he has a delicate touch. He licks the seam of my mouth and I open for him; he has a rigid tongue and he uses it coax me. I follow and our tongues dance, growls pour from him, as I wrap my hands around his neck. He lifts me, my legs tightening around his mighty torso as he moves to the wall and pins my body against the stone. He bites my lips and nuzzles my neck. Our breathing is hot and heavy, as his hands explore my body.  
We break apart and I take in his face. The scar that interrupts his lips, the scar that cuts his cheek, the plates on his head he hardens with vitaar.  
“I’m yours’s Bull.” I whisper, and at my words he attacks my mouth. I rest on his growing bulge and I can feel it pulsing beneath the layers of fabric. My hands claw at his chest and I begin to pry his leather back, to explore beneath when the first bell rings. Leliana’s crows take flight from the watch tower and a line of people begin to head into the throne room.  
“Easy, Inquisitor.” He breathes, biting on my earlobe. My heart stops and my body tenses. He lets me down to my feet and I take in the size of Bull’s breaching length. He wraps his arms around me, both our man hoods rubbing together.  
“Do not worry. I will be by your side.” And as the second bell tolls, we separate and he leads me down from the ramparts, his hand dwarfing mine.


	4. The Inquisitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor confronts Olan and decides his fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
Yes this a short chapter but you can be assured the next chapter will be much longer.  
This short story is almost over and I do hope you have being enjoying it.  
Please let me know what you would like to read next.  
Red Dead? The Last of us? Gears of War? It doesn't have to be one of them. It can be movie, book, game. Pretty much anything.  
It has been so much fun writing this tale and cannot wait for the next.  
Also would you be interested in reading some original work?  
Anyways,  
Your humble writer,  
Mister Ramone.

The stained-glass window behind the throne bathes the room in pools of blue and green. Sconces held by stone statues are lit and cast flickering shadows on the tall walls. Pigeons in the rafters above coo an enthusiastic swell of music as the Iron Bull cuts a path through energetic crowd. All whispers die, as we move through the sea of perfumed bodies in lace and silk. Wind howls through the room and I pass my two guards at the bottom of the dais. Iron Bull stands beside the throne. His hands holding the pommel of a great sword stabbing the floor.  
The crowd looks on, as Josephine enters from a side door. Her heels click and echo throughout the room, as she takes up residence on the top step.  
“Inquisitor.” I nod and she turns to the crowd.  
“Bring in the accused.” She says and her words pass over the room in a shuddering wave. All turn as they hear the clink of chains, and the cranking of armor. Olan Gharr is led up the front steps and into the atrium of the great hall. Both his hands and feet are chained, and he is led by two guards in front and two behind. I doubt it is needed, as he looks utterly defeated. Krem stands with the rest of the chargers in the front row.  
The crowd pulls away towards the walls, as the fowl smell of the captive assaults their pampered noses. They place him in the shadow of the throne, and the guards straighten their stance as they draw their swords and hold them angled at Olan.  
“Olan Gharr, son of Tevinter, you are brought before the grand Inquisitor to answer for your crimes. You are charged with the desertion of your crew and the theft of over 100 gold pieces. How do you answer?” Calls Josephine. Olan looks up and meets my eyes, he turns and takes in Krem and his old friends.  
“Guilty!” He roars. The crowd gasps and jumps back at his ferocity.  
“He doesn’t mean it!” Cry’s Krem but he is silenced by one of his friends.  
Josephine turns to me. I lean forward and glance at the Iron Bull who stares down at his old comrade.  
“I do not need to ask you questions Mister Gharr because you have answered them in the privacy of your cell. Isn’t that correct?”  
“Yes, Inquisitor.” He whispers.  
“You told me why you stole and abandoned your crew. For love?” An Orlesian Dame sobs into a handkerchief.  
“Yes, Inquisitor.”  
“I do not believe you are bad man. Selfish yes, but evil no.” The crowd hangs onto my every word.  
“I have thought about your sentence very carefully and reading records of past punishments, I have decided five lashings of iron chain.” Olan straightens up, his pallor brightening.  
“You are too kind Inquisitor!” He cries.  
“I am not finished. Five lashings of an iron chain carried out by the Iron Bull.” The Iron Bull stiffens beside me. “And the loss of a little finger. Your choice.” The man bows his head.  
“A FAIR PUNISHMENT!” Shouts Sera. The crowd nods in approval and Olan wipes his eyes and bows.  
“Lead the convict outside!” I say and the four guards put away their weapons and lead Olan back through the crowd, who follow on his heels. I turn to the Iron Bull.  
“Are you ok?” I ask and my one true love looks to me.  
“I will be.” He says and places his sword back in its scabbard. I stand and the Iron Bull and Josephine accompany me down through the hall. The storm continues outside, and lightening blinds me. Rain hammers down onto the crowd and Olan Gharr is stripped naked. He stands barefoot in the mud, shivering, his hairy body curled in on itself. A wooden block is brought forward and he bends over it as a guard runs forward with a length chain. The Iron Bull takes it, and throws it behind his shoulder, Olan bites down on a strip of leather as the first lash cuts his skin. Red welts appear immediately.  
“One.” Calls the crowd. And we watch as the man buckles, his knees weaken, and the Iron Bull bares his teeth with each lash.  
“Five!” He bellows letting the chain fall to the ground. Krem runs forward and lifts Olan. Blood runs down between his legs and bone is exposed. A guard takes one of his hands and places it onto the block. He separates the man’s fingers and drawing a hatchet, he swings it through the air and-  
THUD!  
The pinky finger topples to the ground. Blood spurts and the man howls.  
“Healer!” I call and two healers run to meet the collapsing man.  
“You are a free man now!” Shouts Josephine and the crowd all bow, welcoming the convict back. Olan is carried away, followed closely by Krem. The crowd disperses and some child picks up the finger and runs after his sister with it. Members of the Inquisition move toward the tavern, some towards the brothel but the Iron Bull stays by my side.  
“My rooms Bull.” And picking me up, he carries me back inside and throws me down onto my bed.  
“Strip!” He orders and I do.


	5. The High Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter everyone has been begging for. Lol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy. Your support has amazed me. Thank you for welcoming me into this fandom.

_We watch from the cliff top as the Vashoth and Vinsomer dragon fight. While Sera and Vivienne set up camp, I stand with the Iron Bull. Wind threatens to push us over the cliff face, but the Iron Bull holds tightly onto my hand. He watches his untamed giant ancestor hurl a rock at the dragon’s face and the dragon split it into pebbles with a crack of electric. The Vashoth falls to its knees and with a flap of its wings, the giant is stomped out of existence. The dragon opens its wings and jumps into the air, its wings boom hypnotically and soon it is little less than a speck on the horizon. _

_“What happened last night Inquisitor- “ _

_“You do not need to talk about it.” _

_“But I want to. I have never felt so alive.” He turns to me and lifting my chin, he grins. _

_“That thing you did with your tongue, it made my knees weak.” I chuckle. _

_“The Iron Bull Weak? Never.” He bows his head, his forehead resting against mine. _

_His arms wrap around my waist and pulls me close against him. His breath is hot on my skin and it makes an army of goose bumps rise. _

_“I think we both know it was more than just sex.” He whispers into my ear as he kisses my neck and nibbles on my earlobe. Breath hisses through my lips. _

_“Do we?” I ask. _

_“I think the cry’s you made last night answer for you.” He laughs, his hands creeping beneath my undershorts. He grabs my ass cheeks and moans into my ear. _

_“You belong to me, Inquisitor.” He drawls. _

_“You better mark me then.” I breathe, my eyes closed. I feel him push aside the collar of my shirt as he attacks the base of my neck. He kisses hard, bruising the skin and raising his head he looks into my eyes._

_ “On your knees, Mycael.”_

***

The Iron Bull does not give me the time to stand and strip, I am thrown onto the bed and he pulls my boots off roughly. I lie on my front and I am undoing my belt when I feel the fabric tear by his digging hands. I wear only my undershorts as he flips me over onto my back and pulls me across the bed by my feet. I laugh but there is no smile on his face or in his eyes. I know this look from the Storm Coast as he leans over and tears my shirt asunder. His hands paw at my naked torso, and his tongue licks a pink nipple. I gasp. My head thrown back, as his hungry mouth travels lower. His tongue leaving a trail of saliva down my body. I can feel my man hood rise but before he can rip the fabric prison away there comes a knock to my chamber door. The Iron Bull growls, his nostrils flaring. I place a hand on his muscled chest. He relaxes as I cover my waist with a pillow.

“Enter!” I call. I wonder if they can hear the annoyance in my voice. The door opens and my chambermaid rushes in. Her face pale.

“Inquisitor!” She calls. “I heard the most distressing noises from my room.” Her timid eyes look up and widen when they take in the scene. The Iron Bull standing above, a bulge stabbing out of his breeches and I, the Inquisitor naked with a pillow covering my manhood.

“Oh my.” She says.

“As you can see Deirsa (Deer-sha) there is nothing distressing happening here?” The Iron Bull snorts.

“Your arrival is most opportune actually. If you could boil water for a bath it would be most appreciated.”

“At once Inquisitor.” She turns, her cheeks flaming pink. The Iron Bull leans over me on the bed, his nose brushing mine.

“A bath? Hmmm. Is this your way of protecting your virtue?” He asks.

“Bull, we both know I have no virtue. Never had.” He chuckles, staring directly into my eyes.

“You know a bath is going to take a very long time to fill?”

“Then you best find a way to entertain me.” His smile widens and he bares his teeth. He pulls a drape from the window and covers my waist, tossing aside the pillow. He takes a seat beside me, the straw mattress sinking beneath his weight. I fall against him and I feel his hand creep beneath the drape and his fingers brush against my leg. Deirsa returns with several scullery maids all carrying steaming buckets of water. They move across the room and begin to fill the great big copper tub that I hope will fit the Iron Bull and myself. Deirsa begins to add different smelling oils and soon the air is humid and smelling of a summer meadow. The Iron Bull teases a finger up the inside of my thigh, watching the scullery maids come and go.

“Inquisitor? Do you need any scrubbing instruments?” Asks Deirsa, the Iron Bulls fingers creep beneath the fabric of my undershorts. I am fully engorged and can feel myself leaking with excitement.

“A brush will be fine.” I say. The Iron Bull growls in my ear as his hand can’t fit through the opening. I feel his fingers dig at my waist and slowly pry my undershorts down my hairy thighs.

“Are you ok Inquisitor?” Asks Deirsa. Her face, frightful. “You seem dazed. I can have a healer attend to you if you wish.”

“No, I am perfectly fine.” I say, lifting my arse with difficulty off the bed, just enough so the fabric can slide out underneath me. My undershorts fall to my ankles and I kick them off and brush them under the bed with my toes. With full access the Iron Bull slowly trails his fingers along my leg. My cock jumps under the drape as his hands near and cup my balls, I close my eyes tightly shut.

“Inquisitor! Are you okay?” Calls Deirsa. I hear her move across the room. Her hand touches my forehead meanwhile the Iron Bull tortures me beneath the thick layer of fabric with slow movements.

“It’s been a long day Deirsa. If the bath is filled could you, please leave us?”

“Of course, Inquisitor.” She turns away, my tongue wetting my lips. I lean back on my elbows as the Iron Bull grabs hold of my shaft and moves his hand up it. I feel his finger dip into the pool of come that has already spilled from me. He paints shapes onto my pubic bone with it. Matting my thick bush.

“Out! You heard the man!” Scolds Deirsa. The scullery maids run from the room giggling. Deirsa collects the empty buckets and carries them from the room.

“Rest, Inquisitor!” She says, shooting the Iron Bull a warning look. The door closes.

“She is a fierce lady.” The Iron Bull says throwing aside the drapery. My cock springs up, a thread of come hanging from my piss slit. The Iron Bull lowers his head and with his rigid tongue he licks the come away just with the tip. He moans, smacking his lips, he pulls his body atop of mine and pins me to the bed. He forces my mouth open, by squeezing my cheeks and he allows my seed to drip from his lips and spill into my open mouth. I swallow greedily, I can feel my cock digging into the Iron Bulls own manhood. My heart beats quickly as the Iron Bull claims my mouth. I wrap my legs around his back and pull him closer to me. His tongue goes deeper into my mouth, and the noises that escape him have me fighting his grip on my arms.

“Enough!” He shouts, standing. I look up at him startled when he throws me over his shoulder and slaps my rear end. I cry out, as he rubs his hand on my arse cheeks. He carries us over to the copper tub and slowly lowers me into the steaming water. The water level rises covering my navel and rising to mid chest.

“Will you join me, Bull?” I ask. He kneels beside the tub, one of his great big arms dipping beneath the water and clasping my hard cock.

“Not yet.” He says, picking up the brush and a bar of soap. “Lean forward.” He growls. When he is done, there is not an inch of my body that is not red from the rough bristles. Pre-come floats on the surface of the water along with the milky residue of the soap. At several moments during his wash, there came knocks to my door, but he roared them away. He places the brush and soap on the lip of the tub, and he rises to his feet. I watch him as he unbuckles his harness and allows the leather to fall to the floor. I hadn’t noticed that when he rose there was a growing dampness on the front of his breeches. I place a hand on it, water dripping to the floor. I can feel him throbbing and when I tighten my grip, his cock jumps. He undoes his ties and his trousers fall to his knees. He pulls off his boots and standing on either foot, he pulls his legs out of the stretched cloth. He does not wear underwear and his manhood, too heavy to stand upright, sways between his thighs. It just reaches his knees, the thickness compared to that of his fist. It is dark grey, and his helmet is a dark pink. Come runs to the floor in long white strands. His cock is nestled among a dark bush and my fingers run through it, creating a path up his torso. He grabs my hand and kisses it.

I move myself forward, as the Iron Bull steps over the copper wall and claims a seat behind me. Water flows over the edge and splashes onto to the stone floor. The Iron Bull pulls me against him, his cock digging between my thighs. His hands wrap around my torso, I can feel his heartbeat under my body. I lean my head back and he kisses me hard on the mouth. His fingers thread through mine and his other hand teases one of my nipples. I pinch his cock between my thighs and feel his breath still. His man hood sticks out under my cock and I grasp both our shafts. Using both my hands I hold them together and begin to milk them slowly. The Iron Bulls hand tightens on my body. His cock jumps in my grip. I squeeze it tightly, massaging his helmet. He fights against my body weight.

“Mycael!” He warns. The Iron Bull is more sensitive there. I devilishly rub my cock against his helmet, and he yelps. I chuckle and he bites my neck. When the water begin to grow cold, we climb out. Water runs down our bodies in thick rivulets. We don’t bother to dry as the Iron Bull runs at me and pushes me onto the bed. I land on my front and he jumps on top of me. The air is knocked out of my lungs as he spreads my thighs and using his tongue, works in concentric circles. I bite on my blanket, moans breaking through its density.

“Bull!” I moan. His grip tightens on my thighs as his rigid tongue enters me and fucks me deep. My cock stains the bed spread and without warning he pulls his tongue out and forces himself into me. I cry out, but he stifles me with his fingers. He fucks my mouth with his digits as he pushes himself deeper into me. My ass widens for him, I am breathing heavily, I do not think I can have any more of him when I feel the rough pubic hair, brush against my ass. He wraps a hand around my throat and pushing himself against the bed he slides out and pounds back in. I whimper as my hips move in conjunction with his. He bites my neck, his hot breath washing over my skin as he fucks my ass.

He turns me over onto my back while he is still inside of me. He places a hand on either side of my head, as he lowers himself down and kisses me with his tongue. He tastes of ass and as he pulls out and slides back in, I feel a warmth rise within me. I cannot stop it as it passes through my body and cock. My nails dig into his back, drawing blood as my balls empty, shooting thick white spurts of my seed. They hit his chest and I rub myself into him. He groans as my cock falls flat, pulsing come and jumping irregularly. “Mycael!” He calls. “Mycael!” And lifting one of my legs, he separates my thighs. I look up into his face, veins bulge beneath his skin and he bares his teeth as ecstasy passes over him in a shimmering wave. Spittle forms in the corner of his mouth and he fills the room with a wild roar as he empties himself inside me. I feel his hot seed shoot into me, he fills me with his essence and continues to pump inside. Every part of his body trembles, and I grab hold of his horns and pull his head down to me. I crush his lips, his hot breath smothering me as his hips fuck.

My cock is erect again and as the Iron Bull pulls out, his cock dripping with his come, he climbs my body like a ladder and parts my lips with it. He enters my wet mouth and I can taste him strongly. Qunari seed is sweet where humans is salty, I moan as I lick him clean. Beads of come run down my throat and I tease his ball sack with a foot. He jumps, I raise a hand a grabbing hold of one of his tough nipples and squeeze. His hold on my head tightens as he slides deeper into my throat. My eyes bulge and my skin grows red as I hold him there. He releases, my eyes watering and my lungs wheezing. My ass leaks his seed, he rubs his helmet against my entrance and slides back in. My legs are thrown over his shoulders and he whispers my name as he teases my cock, and with one hand has me shooting come across my chest. He attacks it with his tongue, lapping me up. He moves inside of me, and as I tighten my ass around him, he pulls out and shoots himself across my face. It coats my eyes and runs down into my mouth. I lick my lips clean and holding my face in his large hands, he manages the rest. He falls onto the bed beside me. His heavy breaths fills the room. His hand finds mine and he squeezes it. Our cocks leak come and the skull of the High Dragon leers down at us. He stares up at it and then he rolls over onto his side and turns my face to look directly at his.

“In my culture, we Qunari do not have sex for love. We are not embarrassed by our naked bodies.” He rubs a calloused hand up and down my hairy torso.

“When we want to show our commitment to another, we craft matching necklaces from a dragon’s tooth. The tooth is split in half so that way no matter how far apart life take them, they’re always together.” He stands on the bed and reaching up, he pulls a long tooth from the dragon’s maw. His ass clenches and then he falls back down, holding a large white tooth. “Mycael, the time I have spent with you is the happiest of my life. If I craft matching necklaces will you do me the honor of wearing one?” He pulls my exhausted body against his.

“I will.” I breathe onto his lips. He smiles and throwing the tooth to the floor he rolls over onto me. I push him off and he falls onto his front, his laughter fills the room and my heart, and I watch his face as my fingers creep between his ass cheeks and tease his hole.

“Kadan, you know I do not like cock in my ass.” He says turning to warn me. I dribble saliva down between his ass cheeks and aligning myself up with his delicate pink hole I lean over him.

“That’s what all bottom’s say.” I whisper as I push myself into him. The Iron Bull’s moans fill my chambers and flood the hallways and every room on this floor and the floor above. I empty myself inside of him, and as we sleep in each other’s arms, I wake that night gagged and feel him hold my body as he claims me.

“Kadan.” He whispers.

_My Kadan._


End file.
